what I'm trying to say is not to forget
by mirajens
Summary: Later, there is mercy. On their twisted sheets smelling of sweat and sex, they bask in each other one last time.


**note:** A back and forth of POVs, an excessive reiteration of _one last time_ and the kind of vague breakup that I love to write. I'm stille really new to Gajevy so like, go easy on me. Listen to Can't Rember to Forget You while reading this if you want. This is from the 100Kinks series.

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 **what I'm trying to say is not to forget**

 **.**

 **.**

 _One last time._

This is what Gajeel tells himself when the last of his control uncorks and before he knows it, his hands are on her again and hers on him. Levy doesn't make a sound of protest when he kisses a zigzag down the column of her throat until he's licking and biting at the curve of her shoulder. She seems to like it, in fact, how the enamel of his teeth sinks into the cartilage of her shoulder, how he's almost barbaric in handling her. He seems impatient, Levy thinks. Impatient to get the frilly camisole she's wearing down to her waist so the heat of his palm can touch the curve of her breast. Or maybe he's impatient to leave. Levy has sensed that in his the past few weeks.

Still, she doesn't shove him off. She doesn't withdraw from his intensity when she knows that she should be pushing him away before he can leave her, before he can storm out of her life and take her heart with him. She knows that she has to tell him to leave her alone so that she can have this time to brace herself for the bereftness of his going and maybe it won't hurt so much then. But she doesn't do any of that. She still can't stand to see him shove his belongings in a bag and slam the door after him.

So she will take this one last time, both as a selfishness and a comfort for him.

(Because even though the lines on his face are hard and he's said some sharp words, she knows it will hurt him to go.)

When his fingers prod the tiny scrap of satin between her legs, she curls into him and lets her fingers clutch at the hair on his nape ( _Please don't go; what do I have to do to make you stay?_ ). Her voice is a stringent when it cries out his name before she can think to silence herself. Her lips, slick with drool and plump from biting, settles on the pulse point on his neck where she sucks and laves.

It feels like desperation and it makes Gajeel growl. She's not supposed to beg him to stay. She's supposed to hate him for chasing ghosts instead of building a life with her but the hands clutching at him and the sounds she makes for him are tugging on the heart he's forged with iron. He won't stay, no. But maybe he can be a little less selfish one last time.

"We can't do this," he says as he draws back; it aches to draw away and he's almost kind of glad when her arms tighten around him. "Look, Levy, I don't want to be leading you on when I'm still walking out that door in the morning."

Before him, the girl is a mess of tangled hair and swollen eyes and tear tracks on her cheeks. "I don't care. Let me have this if not you." She presses a kiss against his jaw, tense with resistance that is crumbling like a sandcastle. "Give me this before you take everything from me."

He hates himself for it, but he kisses her, savouring the taste of her on his tongue before he will have nothing but loneliness and regret when he's miles away from the home he made with her. Maybe it will get him through when the nights are cold and his leaving seems fruitless. Maybe, one day, it will be enough for him. For now, it won't be. His hands move again, picking her up by the rump and depositing her on his lap, right where he's hardest and throbbing, right where he needs her most. Levy's small frame, moves above and against him, serpentine but warm, her hips swivelling so she can grind down on him. She mewls and it's a displeased sound, annoyed at how the two thin barriers of their underwear separate them. Gajeel can fix this for her, at least. He rips the waistband of his boxers low enough to expose himself and slides the satin thong over her asscheek. Levy is panting as she watches him align them, and then she is sighing when he pulls her down on him. She is trembling when he fucks up into her and unsteady even as his hands grip her hips in a bruising manner so he can control the swiftness in which he plunders her.

It doesn't take much for her to come. Gajeel knows her so well and her body is in tune with his so it's easy for that searing heat to crawl up her legs and her whole body to start shaking. Perhaps after him, there will never be anyone else to make her feel this way. And by the look of him, convulsing as he releases into her, it is the same for him.

Later, there is mercy. On their twisted sheets smelling of sweat and sex, they bask in each other one last time. They lay on their sides facing each other, taking in fine details like how odd stubbles look growing around the piercing under his lips or how sweet the dimples on her hipbones are. Gajeel's hand trail lazily on the swell of her ribcage, fingers barely touching the delicate underside of her breasts where she's sensitive. Maybe he's tickling her by doing this or maybe her twitching is still from her orgasm. Levy's eyes are heavy with sleep but she wants to spend the rest of the night taking in how peaceful he is before he will hurt her.

"Will you try to forget me?" she asks, quiet as if she doesn't want to disturb the calm.

"I will. But I'll probably fail." _Miserably._ _You're not someone anyone can forget._

"Okay." She says, a smile quirting up a corner of her mouth. "I'm glad for that, at least."

There's nothing to say to that so Gajeel stays silent. It's better if he doesn't say anything else. It is as if he doesn't want to leave her anything more than he already has.

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 **note:** I feel like writng smut is so much easier for me than writing not smut? I'm not saying im great at it but it does come to me easier than angst or god forbid: fluff. And since i'm trying to write angst again (angst makes me super happy pls) why not do ansty smut. Its like when your toddler doesn't like eating veggies and you have to mix carrots in his corn or however the fuck that saying goes. What was even my point here omg

ANYWAAAAY. My angst self loved writing The Things series (which is not yet done, im just being lazy, pls dont give up on me) so I feel like I'm gonna do another breakup series with my favorite pairings. Kind of like this one but I'm still ~conceptualizing~ everything. You know, as much as I can actually conceptualize.


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